


A New Path to Take

by Incognito12



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Force Ghosts, Gen, Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incognito12/pseuds/Incognito12
Summary: What if you actually listen to what you are told? What if the Force grants you your wish to teach you to wish carefully? What can sligt stirring of a sleeping person change in the galaxy? What if a woman stays a mother in life and in death? Each of these (and other) what-ifs will set a new path to take. A collection of AU snippets and short stories about butterfly effect in the Galaxy Far Far Away.





	1. The Power of Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Warning to be applied to all stories:  
> \- my interpretation of canon may be different from the common one;  
> \- my definition of canon is definetely different from the common one;  
> \- I use canon and parts of EU selectively.

Mace Windu’s body was falling out of the window slowly, as if someone was playing a holorecord. Anakin watched it in morbid fascination still trying to wrap his mind around his own decision. He had spent three years balancing between being a Jedi and having at least some semblance of normal human life. He’d just thrown the former away; was it the right thing to do?

 

“What have I done?” he said in horror dropping to his knees.

 

“You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin,” a calm reply came. “Become my apprentice. Learn to use the dark side of the Force. There's no turning back now.”

 

He was snapped out of his musings. Padmé. The power to save her. That was why he was doing all of that. There was no choice to make. Nothing could matter more to him; nothing would ever matter more to him than his wife and child!

 

“I will do whatever you ask. Just help me save Padme's life. I can't live without her. If she dies, I don't know what I will do.”

 

He meant it. He would do whatever was asked of him; he would listen to every word of this man as if it were the Will of the Force. He had no other choice if he wanted to keep the light of his life.

 

“To cheat death is a power only one has achieved through centuries of the study of the Force. But if we work together, I know we can discover the secret to eternal life.”

 

It was like a hard slap on his face, a very hard one. “If we work together, we can discover the secret”. There was no doubt he had heard it right. White-hot fury rose in his chest. Anakin thought this man was his friend; he thought he could trust him. Lie, all of it was a lie! Sidious didn’t have the power to cheat death; he was just going to discover it! But such research could take years, and Padmé had a few weeks at best!

 

He suddenly remembered the cold voice ordering him to kill Dooku. The bastard could rot in hell for all he cared, but surely, Sidious had promised something to Dooku too… there was no way a seasoned Jedi Master would pledge himself to a Sith for no reason at all! At the end Dooku only learned the hard way that treachery was the way of the Sith. Anakin remembered another meeting, when the Chancellor told him some preposterous gossip about his wife and Obi-Wan. The concern in his voice seemed so genuine at the time, but what kind of friend would do it? Kriff, kriff, kriff, how could he be such an idiot? How could he believe that man really cared about him, about Padmé, about anything or anyone but his own goals? Was there any truth in their friendship at all? A true friend would help him without asking for anything, just because they were friends…

 

He didn’t know if it was just his imagination, or his loved ones had somehow reached him through the Force, trying to save him. He was hearing their voices now, as clearly as if they were standing next to him.

 

“Good job of making friends, Anakin,” Obi-Wan was as sarcastic as ever.

 

“You can be so dense sometimes, Skyguy,” Ahsoka sighed tiredly.

 

“My love, you’re better than that!” Padmé gasped.

 

“Ani, you’re a good man,” his mother confirmed.

Now, at this very moment, it was his last chance to choose right. It was his last chance to not let them down; the Force was screaming it to him. He was the Chosen One; he was not chosen to be some liar’s dupe! He would not sell himself for honey words and empty promises! His saber gripped in his hand, Anakin rose to his feet.

 

“Thank you, Master,” he said slowly, “for lying to me and using me!” he added fiercely when the blue blade pierced the traitor’s chest.

 

It gave him some sadistic pleasure to see that the Chancellor hadn’t realized his puppet had cut his strings until it was too late. It was even more delightful to see an entire gamut of feelings in his eyes: disbelief, shock, fear and finally despair of a man who had his entire world crumbling around him. Maybe, enjoying it wasn’t the Jedi way, but at the moment Anakin couldn’t care less. Then the dead body dropped at his feet, and the Force screamed once again to Its Chosen One. It wasn’t over; something disastrous was going to happen now.

 

He felt another life presence in the room and looked around quickly. Kit Fisto was unconscious, but not dead yet. Anakin couldn’t leave him here; he had to do something to make up for his stupidity. He picked the Jedi Master and rushed of the office.

 

As soon as he crossed the threshold, a powerful explosion shook the building. He tried to leap away, but it was too late now. The explosion threw him against the wall; he felt in horror parts of the ceiling falling on top of him. “Padmé!” was his last frantic thought before darkness claimed him.

 

***

 

When he woke up, the first thing he felt was Obi-Wan’s familiar presence nearby. For a brief moment Anakin felt as if he were twelve again and his Master was sitting next to his sick bed after a mission had gone to south.

 

“Thanks Force, you woke up,” the relief in Obi-Wan’s voice was unmistakable.

 

Before Anakin could open his mouth, two fingers pressed his lips lightly.

 

“Don’t try to speak; Master Che will have my hide if I let you. I’ll tell you what happened, but you have to keep silent. Blink, if you understood me.”

 

Anakin blinked.

 

“Good. You’ve been unconscious for three days. The Senate is an outright hornet nest now; the explosion opened a passage to some hidden room. What they found there made them go ballistic. Bail couldn’t get into details, but by the looks of it, that was a giant pile of poodoo. Mas Amedda and some other members of the late Chancellor’s entourage were arrested just a few hours ago. You and Kit will have to deal with the Senate’s committee when you’re better, but I believe they are more concerned about what to do with the mess than about what happened to Palpatine.”

 

Anakin couldn’t wait anymore. He had to know.

 

“Pa… Padmé,” he croaked.

 

“You want to see Padmé?” Anakin blinked several times. Obi-Wan chuckled lightly, looking at him with genuine concern. “Sorry, my friend, it’ll have to wait. The news of your injury was stressful enough to make her go in labor. She gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl; the three of them are perfectly all right, but doctors want to watch her a bit more, just in case.”

 

A huge wave of relief washed over Anakin. Padmé was alive and fine. He was a father. They were both right, and now they had two children! Nothing else mattered, just nothing. Even if he died right now, he would die a happy man.

 

“I think, it’s enough for now,” Obi-Wan said, putting his hand on Anakin’s forehead. “Sleep. We’ll talk more later.”

 

***

He woke again, and it was completely dark in the ward. He was feeling much better; he was now lucid enough to actually think. Padmé didn’t die, and it was the greatest relief he could hope for, but he wasn’t out of trouble yet. Could he assume that records from the Chancellor’s office didn’t go anywhere and all evidence of his wrongdoings had been destroyed? Windu’s death would haunt him for the rest of his days, but he couldn’t afford going to prison. Not now, not when his family needed him. He wondered if Obi-Wan would have still cared about him, if he had known…

 

The next thought made him shudder. His nightmares didn’t come true, but were they just a product of his subconscious? Was it possible to induce visions? Now, that he really thought of it, joining Palpatine didn’t look like a bright idea at all. Padmé had been opposing to the Chancellor’s emergency powers for a long time; he couldn’t count how many times she had risked her life and limb for the Republic. Would she take it kindly if he supported a power-hungry dictator? Why didn’t he care of her reaction earlier? Was it possible that Sidious was also tempering with his mind, his ability to think clearly? Anakin sighed. Whatever it was, he got a harsh lesson to learn. He was the Chosen One, the most powerful Force-wielder ever. But if there was any power that had saved him and his loved ones, it was the Power of Attention. He would never forget that he had to _listen_ to people and actually _hear_ what _they were saying_ , not what _he wanted_ to hear.

 

Probably, that was the main part of the true freedom.


	2. My Name Is Leia Organa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes what's broken can't be fixed.

Even in the afterlife you couldn’t get everything you wanted. That was one of the first discoveries Anakin Skywalker made after becoming one with the Force. There would always be something to earn, probably, something forever out of your reach.

 

He didn’t complain, of course. It was a small miracle by itself that he was here, that the Force deemed him worthy of any redemption at all. Saving Luke was such a small deal; he was still a very lousy father if his son had to _beg_ him for help. For some… time, for the lack of better word, Anakin was just enjoying what he had. His loved ones were with him, never to abandon him again; everything around was quiet and joyous. He was finally at peace, something he never achieved in his mortal life. Yet, something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it at first, until a visit to the Temple brought a very unpleasant revelation.

 

Detachment rule was null and void there, and Anakin got used to seeing Jedi follow their hearts rather than the Code. Obi-Wan and Siri were finally together, and he couldn’t be happier for his brother who had lost so much. But this particular visit showed him something that would be insignificant for anyone else, but was really eye-opening for him. Never in a billion years would Anakin imagine that Agen Kolar could make a silly saucy joke, and Mace Windu – Mace Windu of all people! – would laugh his ass off at it. It struck him like a supernova: no one was so much at ease with him, not even Obi-Wan and Padmé.

 

Jedi were still Jedi even in death; they would never deny the will of the Force. If the Force forgave the former Sith, they would too. He was always welcome in the Temple; the Jedi were always polite and even cordial, they would never refuse to listen to him or spar with him. But he didn’t feel _accepted_. He didn’t _belong_ ; he was not a part of their intimate warm camaraderie, and he probably never would. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; he knew he could never be a proper Jedi and belong there. But it was, and it hurt. It made him finally realize what was off between him and Padmé.

 

She was truly an angel; their meeting was the best thing that could happen to him. She still loved him, even after everything he had done to her and their children. Yet, Padmé wasn’t giving herself fully to their love, Anakin could feel it. Some part of her stayed distant and aloof. He could be very insistent when he wanted to be; it didn’t take him all that long to get the bluntest answer.

 

“I should’ve never made you my first priority, Anakin,” Padmé sighed sadly. “Never. I should’ve never let you break my heart so badly. My children needed me, and I couldn’t care enough to live for them. I’m so ashamed of myself.”

 

He could only groan. What was he supposed to do about it? Maybe, there could be hope for them to work it through, many mortal years from now, when their son and daughter join them in the Force. But…

 

Anakin’s main problem was still in the world of living. Leia was his daughter through and through, stubborn as hell and fiercely passionate. She never did anything in halves; it was easier to teach art to a bantha than make Leia change her mind once she made it up. She wanted nothing to do with her birth father. Every time he would appear in her room, she wouldn’t as much as look at him. She would call some of her staff to discuss business, or put her headphones on and start listening to music. Once she asked her smuggler to come; when Han entered the room, she kissed him passionately and whispered something in his ear. Non-sensitives couldn’t see Force-ghosts, but it didn’t stop Solo from making a few choice comments in Huttese much to Leia’s giggling delight. In any other situation Anakin would be highly amused, as the kid could actually teach him some new words. But there was nothing funny in this particular situation.

 

It was a couple of weeks after the first anniversary of Endor Victory when Mon Mothma finally said “Enough!” Leia was working like crazy, and the new Chancellor practically kicked her out of the office with a strict order to get some rest and start preparations for her wedding. Leia decided to go to Naboo where a villa in Varykino was available for lease. Anakin wouldn’t believe for a second it was just a coincidence. It was the Will of the Force, and there was no way he wouldn’t try his luck again.

 

***

Varykino was as peaceful and quiet as he remembered it, far from pollution and bustle of metropolis. Even the Force was felt different here. Unseen and silent, Anakin watched his daughter brushing her hair before going to bed in the very same bedroom where her parents had been so happy. She was standing with her back to him, and she looked so much like Padmé at that moment. He almost believed he was nineteen again, it was their honeymoon, and soon he would open his eyes to tell his wife what a ridiculous nightmare he’d just had. Almost. Then Leia turned from the mirror, and it was time for him to become visible.

 

“You again!” she hissed angrily, grabbing her player and headphones from a small table next to the bed.

 

“Leia, please! You can’t avoid it forever! We must talk! There’s something important you need to know!” he begged.

 

Her hand with the headphones froze.

 

“All right,” she said slowly a few seconds later. “We’ll talk, if you agree to my terms.”

 

Anakin nodded. He didn’t like any bit of these supposed “terms”, but it was better than nothing.

 

“I’ll listen to you and answer your questions, if you have any,” Leia continued. “Then you leave me the hell alone, unless I tell you otherwise. Are we having a deal?”

 

“Yes,” he replied softly. “I swear, I’ll never bother you again, if you don’t want me. Just give me this one chance to show you who I really was.”

 

“I’m listening,” she said dryly, sitting down on the bed.

 

He told her nearly everything. He told her about a slave boy that met an angel and fell in love for life. He told her about a young Jedi that lost his mother because of the rigid Code. He told her about the same young Jedi tormented by so many things: the war, the secret of his marriage, his divided loyalties and his nightmares of losing the only love of his life. He told her about a man with a silver tongue that had been a trusted friend for years. Finally, he told her about a decision made by a desperate and frightened man that had nowhere to turn for help. He had to stop here. If he wanted any chance to make amends with his daughter, he couldn’t tell her about Mustafar. Not now; maybe, one day she would be ready to hear his confession of his last sin. The memories were painful, and he didn’t notice he’d closed his eyes until he stopped talking.

 

“Unbelievable. Couldn’t you at least find a good reason for all of that?” Leia’s voice dripped with loath. “Were you really that pathetic?”

 

If Anakin were still alive, he would come very close to the Dark Side, or even Turn. Pathetic? Not a good reason? Was it everything she had to say about all his love, all his pain and suffering?!

 

“What is pathetic here, Leia?” he hissed in his best Vader-manner. “My love for your mother? My desperation to save the three of you?”

 

She didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

 

“Was it love, if you didn’t care what mother stood for and what she would think of your actions? Was there any threat to protect us from? I mean a real threat, not some stupid dream.”

 

“Did you listen to me at all?! My visions were a threat enough, especially after what had happened to your grandmother!”

 

“Whatever,” she waived her hand dismissively. “It still doesn’t explain why you trusted the Emperor’s promise. I know very well what it is when your loved one is in danger, thanks to you, by the way. I wouldn’t believe even Chewie, if he had just told me he knew what to do and asked something of me for his help. What kind of reaction did you expect from me? You were supposed to be a good person and a responsible adult; you acted like a villain and a spoilt child that would stop at nothing to get a treat. You were willingly stupid and made everyone pay the price of it. I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Is there anything else you want to tell me? You mentioned something important.”

 

A pregnant pause lasted for what seemed like millennia, as Anakin was releasing his anger into the Force. She didn’t understand; probably, she didn’t want to understand. But he had no right to be mad at her, not after everything he had put her through.

 

“I told you all of this to make you see that I was not born a monster,” he said tiredly. “I was just a man that made a lot of poor choices. My anger and hate led me to a very dark place and cost me everything. I don’t want it to happen to you, Leia. You’re Force-sensitive. It’s very dangerous for you to hate anyone, especially your own father. You must let go of your hate.”

 

“Now, that’s a good point,” she nodded. “Hatred is unhealthy for anyone, I can’t agree more. Then, I thank you for the story,” he looked at his daughter with hope… only to see a cold smirk on her face. “It made the task easier; you’re too despicable to hate you. I hope, despising you will be safe enough. As for being my father… forget it. Just forget.”

 

“But I am your father!”

 

Leia was looking daggers now.

 

“My name is Leia _Organa_! Bail Organa was there for me to do all father’s job! He raised me, he taught me and he loved me with all he had. He is the only father I know, and I would never give the same title to his murderer!” she spat, jumping to her feet. “I’ve listened to you. Now, get lost and never bother me again!”

 

Once again Anakin closed his eyes in pain. He gave his word and he had to keep it. Yet, “never” was too much even for eternity. Leia was still young; maybe, one day, with her own children at her side, she would become less judgemental. Maybe, he would have another chance then. With a sad sigh he turned and made sure his daughter saw him flying out of the balcony door.

 

***

As soon as the blue figure disappeared from the room, Leia’s knees buckled, and she fell on the bed, violent sobs shaking her body. She was drained to the core; she learnt too much and felt too much to cope. She felt sorry for the boy born in slavery. She was horrified with her grandmother’s fate. She had too many painful memories of war to not be sympathetic. But all of that melted into a ball of icy rage and profound disgust, when she heard that one stupid dream had caused so much suffering for the galaxy. It was this rage that made her remain cool and collected and cut the conversation as short as possible; she couldn’t let the bastard see her weakness or her tears. She nearly lost it at the end, though. She told him he had made her job easier. Unfortunately, that was very likely a lie.

 

Leia was a politician, not a naïve girl. She did realize that rise of the Empire hadn’t been one man’s doing. Lots of beings had to be involved; even more had to make mistakes and be blind until it was too late. Yet, for some brief moment it all came down to one person’s choice, and the revelation hurt like all nine Corellian hells. If only this… man… were more of a man than of a stupid selfish child! So many things would have been different! She would’ve grown up with her family… the Organas would’ve been their family friends… Alderaan would’ve still been there!

 

She finally sat on the bed, wiping angry tears from her cheeks. She had to be strong. She would take a good advice even from an enemy. There was no way she would let her hatred of a dead man or endless possible “what-ifs” ruin her life. But there was no way she would ever forgive Vader. Being so selfish, stupid and irresponsible was unforgivable. Period. There was nothing more to contemplate.

 

A small holopicture of the Organas was sitting on the table, a gift from Mon Mothma after destruction of Alderaan. It was taken at her father’s birthday party right before the Clone Wars started. Her parents were so beautiful there, so young and happy, oblivious to the terrible fate awaiting them. Leia took the picture and went to the balcony.

 

“I miss you,” she whispered to the black silk cover of the sky scattered with stars. Just five years ago there was one more among them. “I miss you so much.”

 

A gush of cool wind came from the lake. It played with her locks, cooled her cheeks and dried her tears. It whispered in the voices silenced forever:

 

“We love you, little princess. Live. Grow strong. Be happy. We’ll always be there for you. We love you.”


	3. The Force Meant Every Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the Will of the Force can be very difficult, even if It performs a miracle for you

The last of Tatooine suns set, and chill of the night started descending on the desert. At least, he knew that night in the desert was cold; Force-ghosts didn’t feel heat or cold. Tattoine was full of life; he heard distant cries of Sand People, shuffling of a Jawa sandcrawler and even crayt dragon roaring somewhere in a cave. If he tried, he would see Force ties binding everyone and everything on this sandball. Being one with the Force gave one a lot of new abilities; sadly, it didn’t take away one’s mortal experience. Worst of all, it could give quite an unpleasant new perspective of one’s life.

 

Once again, the ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn was standing in front of a small hut in the middle of the desert. The late Jedi Master was trying to gather his courage and finally talk to his former apprentice. It was past time he admitted all his mistakes and wrongdoings to the man he had failed so badly. Once again, he was failing miserably. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t make himself look into Obi-Wan’s eyes, knowing that his son was still blaming himself for everything gone wrong. It was probably the most unfair thing in the universe, when a man was blaming himself, when he was failed and betrayed twice. There were two traitors in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life, his master and his apprentice. Qui-Gon had to be honest with himself; what he did to Obi-Wan was treachery. For the millionth time over the last three mortal years he went through the list of everything he should’ve done differently.

 

He should’ve never let the boy feel unwanted.

 

He shouldn’t’ have been cold and distant.

 

He should’ve never left Obi-Wan on Melida/Daan.

 

He shouldn’t have neglected his duty after New Apsolon.

 

He should’ve never rejected Obi-Wan in front of the Council.

 

He shouldn’t have discarded the boy’s gift of the Unifying Force.

 

He shouldn’t have discussed Anakin’s fate in front of the child.

 

He should have waited for his Padawan on Naboo and stayed alive, or tried to stay alive.

 

He should’ve told Obi-Wan how much he loved him instead of burdening the boy with an apprentice he hadn’t chosen.

 

If only he had listened more to the Force all these years ago. If only he could go back in time to correct all of his mistakes and take away all suffering he had caused! If only…

 

“The issue that made you make your mistakes is not solved that easily, you know,” a strange voice said in his head.

 

“I know,” he sighed. “I was stubborn. Sometimes I was selfish. Sometimes I was so arrogant that I would honestly mistake my own desires for the Will of the Force. No living being can avoid it. Probably, I was worse than many.”

 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t make mistakes if you could live once again?”

 

“I’m not that arrogant,” Qui-Gon chuckled. “I wasn’t perfect; I would most definitely make some other mistakes. But if had a chance, I would right the wrongs I know of. Sometimes, small things can change the large picture. Anyway, what’s the point of discussing it? It’s impossible to go back in time.”

 

“There’s no such thing as “impossible” when you’re one with the Force,” the voice chided. “I liked you answer. You’re given another chance. Use it wisely, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

 

An invisible hand took him and threw him into some dark abyss.

 

***

It seemed that the flight was endless, and while it wasn’t painful, it made Qui-Gon feel somehow itchy. But finally it came to an end, and he landed on his knees on something soft, eyes closed. It was so good to actually _feel_ something again, to have his knees back. Never again would he take having a body for granted. Mighty currents of the Force were swirling around him; he was most definitely in the Temple. It was delicious to feel all these presences, especially those that had been lost to him so many years ago. He could spend ages like that, just soaking in the feeling of being alive. Even being one with the Force didn’t seem so delightful right now.

 

When he finally opened his eyes, a pang of anxiety was added to his delight. He was not in a single knight’s apartment, but in Master/Padawan quarters. The Force worked in mysterious ways indeed; was it that Obi-Wan had actually needed their rough start? Qui-Gon stood up and looked around to locate the calendar. His eyes fell on a mug sitting on the table, and the innocent item made his blood freeze. The simply decorated mug was Tahl’s gift for his thirteenth Life Day, and he remembered very well _who_ and _when_ broke it. The plate on the apartment’s door confirmed his suspicions. He could only drop on the couch, his head in his hands. The Force meant it, every kriffing word. He wanted to go back in time and correct all of his mistakes. Here he was now, back in the past, at the time when he made his first one, a few days after he had taken a Padawan.

 

Xanatos. A traitor, a darksider, a murderer. The wounds Qui-Gon believed healed long ago opened once again. He couldn’t, just couldn’t bear the idea of dealing with the boy for years, seeing his charming looks and listening to his sweet lies. It was impossible. With a huge effort he managed to clear his racing mind and actually think what to do about his current predicament. There was no way he could just go to the Council and tell them he’d changed his mind. He would be the first to say that such master should be banned from teaching forever. Rejecting the boy for some transgression wasn’t an option either; Xanatos was way too smart to get far enough to deserve such treatment.

 

A plan started formulating in Qui-Gon’s brain. The boy was turning thirteen in a couple of months. A trip to Telos would be a nice gift, and there would be a perfect opportunity for Xanatos to leave the Order earlier. Let him have the power and wealth he craved for. Let his greedy father have his son and give the boy everything he wanted. Let them both have their dreams come true. That would still require spending a couple of months with Xanatos, but it was the best option Qui-Gon had.

 

He was so deep in his thoughts that he had completely missed the Padawan’s appearance. He only noticed the boy when Xanatos was standing right in front of him, a slight frown on his face.

 

“Are you all right, Master?”

 

Qui-Gon tried to answer, to pretend that everything was all right, but no words would come. His tongue just refused to move.

 

“Is something bothering you, Master? Shall I call a Healer?” the boy asked, the frown on his face deepening.

 

The anxiety in Xanatos’ eyes looked genuine, and it felt genuine in the Force. Qui-Gon cursed himself. What was he thinking? Where was his own wisdom when he needed it? Here and now Xanatos was twelve. He had done nothing wrong yet; his future was still in motion. It wasn’t too late to save all innocents he could hurt and planets he could destroy. There was still a chance to save Xanatos from wasting his great potential on murky business dealings and revenge, from letting the Dark Side consume his soul and taking his own life. There was no way the Force would want any innocent to suffer or any child to be corrupted. Now Qui-Gon could only wonder why he hadn’t even considered giving the boy another chance, when he was so willing to do it for Anakin.

 

He knew the answer, and he didn’t like any bit of it. Anakin became a monster, but he would never think of hurting a man that had died so many years before his betrayal. Xanatos’ anger and hatred were personal. It all came down to Qui-Gon’s hurt feelings and wounded pride. He had never been so ashamed of himself. What a selfish hypocrite he was! If he were to be worthy of his second chance, this had to end now! He couldn’t blame the child in front of him for anything his dark counterpart had done. He couldn’t turn his back to his responsibility. Whether he liked it or not, Xanatos was his apprentice, and it was Qui-Gon’s duty to take proper care of him. The boy needed a firm hand… all right, a very firm hand. But he also deserved care, affection, and… love. No matter, how much it would cost Qui-Gon, he couldn’t deny the boy any of that.

 

“I’m sorry, Padawan,” he finally managed to say. “I was deep in my thoughts, and you startled me. Everything’s all right.”

 

“Are you sure, Master?” Xanatos still sounded concerned.

 

“Yes, pretty sure,” Qui-Gon chuckled. “Now, that you have my full attention, how were your lessons?”

 

“Great!” the boy beamed. “Master Chin-Ka said she could move me to a more advanced Engineering class, because I had nothing to do in my current one. I know all the staff already!”

 

“Good to hear that. How did your classmates take it?”

 

The question made Xanatos frown again and look away.

 

“Padawan?”

 

“They said I was just showing off.”

 

“Were you?”

 

“I don’t know, Master”, the boy said softly. “I just told them the staff was easy and where they got it wrong.”

 

“Xan, look at me, please,” Qui-Gon said. When the Padawan obeyed, he continued. “Being proud of your achievements is acceptable, though you should better avoid even that. Letting it go into your head is most definitely wrong. Perhaps, what you did was closer to the latter than to the former. You’re a talented engineer; what’s easy for you is pretty difficult for your classmates. Surely, there’re areas where they are more gifted. Would you like it if they treated you the same way at a lesson on such subject?”

 

A spark of surprise flickered in Xanatos’ eyes, and he actually fell thoughtful.

 

“Maybe, I wouldn’t like it, Master,” he admitted. “Shall I apologize to them?”

 

“This may be a good idea. But it’s more important to realize that all your talents and achievements will actually make you unfit to be a Jedi, if you lack compassion and neglect other people’s feelings. Unless you don’t want to be a Jedi at all?”

 

“Of course I do, Master!” Xanatos said indignantly.

 

“Good. Then we’ll have to meditate on the proper way to treat other people when you have reasons to think you’re better than them.” The boy sighed heavily, and Qui-Gon barely suppressed a smile. Children didn’t like meditation at this age; he was no different himself. “Yes, Xanatos, we’ll meditate together after lunch. We’ll have to do something quiet anyway, because I plan to have a lightsaber lesson after that.”

 

“Yupee!” the boy exclaimed cheerfully.

 

“Ah, so you like this idea, do you?” Qui-Gon said teasingly. “Now, wash your hands and we’ll see what we can order for lunch.”

 

The Padawan disappeared in the ‘fresher, and the Master closed his eyes briefly. He buried all his memories of good times with Xanatos so long ago; it was actually soothing to see the boy like that, full of enthusiasm and ready to listen. Maybe, it was the way to finally heal the old wounds. Qui-Gon looked at the mug on the table once again and stood up to put it into the cupboard. It was not befit a Jedi to get attached to material possessions, but Tahl was a good friend. Surely, it wasn’t a big deal if he wanted to keep her present? Small things could change a lot; why not add one more to the list? The Force was singing in his ears, letting him know that for now he was doing right. He would have to see to it that he wouldn’t stop.

 

 

_25 years later_

 

Once again in the warm embrace of the Force, Qui-Gon was looking at his own funeral pyre. He sighed. He hoped he would be able to do more, but the Force really meant every word. He was given a chance to right his own wrongs, no more, no less. The rest was out of his hands.

 

He was right all these years ago that he would make more mistakes if he were given a chance to correct his old ones. No doubt, he did exactly that. Yet, these mistakes never affected his responsibility as a Master, and that was what really mattered to him.

 

He took Obi-Wan a few months before his thirteenth birthday, and he accepted the boy with open arms and open heart. He agreed to help the Young and only left his Padawan for a couple of days to get Tahl to the Temple. He never let the boy suffer after her death. In some cases he would actually listen to Obi-Wan when his apprentice had bad feelings about something. He discussed the Trials with the Padawan and recommended him before their mission to Naboo. He asked the Council to dismiss Obi-Wan and Anakin before discussing the Chosen One’s fate; the request was granted. He didn’t rush to fight the Sith without waiting for Obi-Wan. It wasn’t enough to save Qui-Gon’s life; obviously, it was his destiny to die by the Zabrak’s hand. Yet, it was enough to save many other lives, as Obi-Wan managed to cut the monster at the chest, not at the waist. This time around there was no chance of Darth Maul’s survival. It left Qui-Gon with one last mistake to correct; he did find strength to start his speech with “I’m so proud of you, Padawan. I love you.” Last, but not the least, he didn’t leave Obi-Wan to fight on his own. His two sons had become very close over the years; Qui-Gon took care of that.

 

The years he spent with Xanatos had been the most taxing in both his lives. It was a constant struggle between being a strict master and letting the boy know how much he was cared of. It worked at the end, though it did have a side effect that displeased the Council greatly. Xanatos turned out to be more of a maverick than his Master before him. Even Qui-Gon was rendered speechless when he realized why their mission to Telos had gone so differently this time around and what kind of deal his Padawan had made with his father. For the entire galaxy young Granta, Crion’s heir, orphaned at the age of eight, was Xanatos’ brother. Qui-Gon was the only one to know better. It didn’t please him to see that Xanatos had been having an affair behind his back, but he let his apprentice keep this little secret. While Qui-Gon had always been in here and now, he couldn’t help the feeling that one day such experience would be invaluable.

 

He looked at the pyre once again. Xanatos was here too, tall and strong, a Jedi Master in his own right, his hand on his Padawan brother’s shoulder. He would be there for Obi-Wan and Anakin, and there was nothing else Qui-Gon could’ve done. He hoped it would be enough. He actually knew it had to be enough. There was nothing more for him to do; now he could only watch his boys from afar.

 

Let it be the Will of the Force that they make him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the timeline a bit; Granta is born three years earlier.


End file.
